


Paris looks stunning from the rooftop of the Palais Garnier

by Stingray_vibes_117



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Endgame christine x raoul, F/M, my only wholesome fic, rip erik, wholesome fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stingray_vibes_117/pseuds/Stingray_vibes_117
Summary: Raoul convinces Christine to just leave with him during the rooftop scene.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Kudos: 6





	Paris looks stunning from the rooftop of the Palais Garnier

**Author's Note:**

> The writing style is a hot mess but this was written for school so forgive me.

Paris looks stunning from the rooftop of the Palais Garnier. If not for the circumstances, it would be quite romantic. Christine lets go of his hand, and the glint of gold on her finger quickly makes him realize why she wanted to speak with him in private. 

"The ring. Are you meaning to tell me you're engaged to Erik?" He startled her, oddly enough. 

"... yes."

Not the answer he was hoping for.

"Oh." Stubbornness and pride have always been Raoul's worst qualities but, at this point, it is thanks to them that he remains somewhat composed.

"My heart belongs to you, Raoul, but this ring cannot come off for now."

Raoul's eyebrows furrow in confusion and hurt. Christine may have been toying with his feelings this entire time; there is no other explanation.

"If you truly loved me over Erik, you would have gotten rid of it."

Christine scowls. "I do. You don't understand!"

"I think I understand well enough." Raoul sighs tiredly. "You love Erik. You're just lying to me, as you have been for months." 

"No! I don't know how to better explain it to you, Raoul. I intend to reject Erik only when there is an opportunity to do so, then we can be together."

How... cruel. Now the singer plans to break not only Raoul's heart but Erik's too.

"The man is obsessed with you, Christine, and twisted as he is, he still feels something for you. Do you want to give those feelings time to blossom, with the intention of crushing them as you've done to me? That does not strike you as a cold decision? A selfish one, perhaps."

Christine's soft lips part in bewilderment. "You're nobody to accuse me of selfishness, Raoul."

The viscount looks mildly offended; his skeptical eyes narrow into angry slits. In a moment, his fingers wrap around the flesh of Christine's wrist. "You're playing with fire, is what I'm trying to warn you about. You're taunting something dangerous and it's... reckless of you." 

There it is again, the insolent twitch of her lip. Raoul fights the urge to keep himself composed. Why doesn't she understand the urgency of their predicament? Does Christine have no regard for her safety?

For Raoul's safety? 

"And what would you rather have me do? I cannot just leave- I cannot just decide I've had enough... He will be waiting for me, Raoul. He could follow me home if he so desired. He's everywhere." Pity threatens to claw at Raoul's heart as he sees the hopelessness in the singer's gaze. "I have no choice! Do you honestly think that I could waltz out of the theatre and abandon my career? Where, pray tell, would I go?"

The viscount opens his mouth to throw in some bitter remark, but Christine's glare silences him. 

"Don't even think about it! I remember what you said during the masquerade, Raoul. I will not let you insult me again!"

The sound of their petty bickering attracts unwanted attention, but the young protagonists are oblivious to the shadow now watching them from atop 'Harmony's’ wings. Raoul only feels his stomach churn with a sudden onset of dread, but he reassures himself that it's the guilt of his previous words weighing down on him; nothing more.

"I'm sorry," he says, pensively. "I was just worried, and I still am."

Christine's scowl softens at those words. "I understand." There is that gentle, sympathetic smile. Suddenly Raoul remembers why he fell in love with her.

And it fills him with a sense of desperation he didn't know he could feel. He scratches the back of his neck timidly, pondering. The next sentence that comes out of his mouth is foolish and irrational.

"Christine, run away with me." He feels almost inadequate, blurting out something so absurd.

A beat. "I... what?" 

"It sounds ridiculous, but-" 

"No, I can't. What about my career? I made it onto the headlines just weeks ago, I finally have a chance to make my father proud!" 

"Christine, your father is dead." 

"I know he is, which is why it's crucial I do this." 

Raoul's voice begins to quiver with desperation. "But not here, fearing for your life. I will find another opera house to sponsor, we don't have to stay here! We can go to Switzerland if that's what you desire." 

"My home..." 

"We can go anywhere you want." 

"You would really do all that... for me?" There's a glimmer of ambition in her gaze he hasn't seen in months. 

"Of course I would.” Now was definitely the most appropriate time to say it. “I love you.”

"I love you too!" And she pulls him into a warm embrace.

Raoul would be lying to himself if he denied the immense satisfaction he felt. Christine is finally his, and he promises to himself that he will prioritize her safety until Erik is no longer a threat. 

"There's no time to waste. We shall leave Paris at dawn after I say farewell to my brother. I'm sure we can accommodate a guest overnight."

They don't need to say anything to each other. A nod of approval is all Raoul needs. He's never felt this relieved, truly. 

Christine slides the ring off her finger and throws it off the roof with little hesitation, and the viscount could swear that the feeling of dread in his heart vanishes with it. 

They leave with the backs of their hands brushing, but if they were to look behind them, even for a moment, they would see a silhouette of a man looking down at where the ring could have landed.


End file.
